Football Heads And Unibrows
by toxic-dreamer-2
Summary: collection of one-shots and drabbles centering around everybody's favorite couple. AXH.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there!**

**I decided to start posting all my HA! one-shots and drabbles here.**

**All of them will either involve Arnold or Helga (most of the time both). Although I may pop up with one or two Brainy themed drabbles -I can't say for sure-.**

**None of them are really related, so you don't have to worry about following a story or anything.**

**Basically these are little scenerios and ideas that I need to get out of my system.**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

**Beat of my Heart**

He found himself mesmerized, watching her out on the dance floor; arms raised over her head, hips swaying, and body in perfect sync with the music. She was amazing, her dancing more than a little suggestive, and he smiled before shaking his head. He wasn't much of a dancer, he hadn't even wanted to come, but she had more-or-less forced him to; saying that he'd been too stressed out and needed a break.

She was having fun, at least, and he had to admit he was enjoying himself too. He wasn't the only one watching her though. Several other guys were sending her looks, nudging their friends to get a look at the 'sexy blonde thing' out on the floor. Arnold frowned, his grip tightening around his glass as he shot several of the guys warning looks. They didn't notice, still to busy watching his friend dance; eyeing her as if she were just a piece of meat.

One of them stood up, and Arnold was certain what his intentions were at that moment, and a feeling of jealousy suddenly rushed through him.

He stood up too, quickly making his way onto the dance floor before the other guy could think to make his move.

The song hadn't ended, but he hardly cared about that as he grabbed her hand and started leading her toward the door.

"Come on, Helga. Let's get out of here."

A smile flickered across the girls face as she allowed him to pull her through the crowd.

"Whatever you say, Arnoldo."

**--**

* * *

As she looked up at him, she wondered how things had gotten so complicated. How had they arrived at this moment; standing there in the middle of night, their faces only visible due to the glow of the streetlamps above.

"I should..probably get back home." She said, turning her head to the side in a feeble attempt to avoid his gaze; her loose blonde hair now shielding half of her face .

"Helga." His hand gently grasped her forearm as if he were afraid she'd turn and run away at any moment.

She looked up, his expression set in determination while hers remained apprehensive.

"I have to know, Helga." he told her, his gaze never faltering, and his tone suggesting that he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Do you love me?"

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt her body tense.

She had always told herself that it was better to push him away rather than risk having her heart broken -So it should have been easy to say 'no', to just turn away; continuing to distance herself from him, just as she had in the past.

So why was it that she found herself frozen in place? Why did she find it difficult to form words? Why couldn't she help but stare directly into his eyes?

"A-Arnold I…"

Why couldn't she just lie to him.

* * *

**--**

Over the years he had seen many different sides to Helga. He was very familiar with her dominate and pushy demeanor, as he often seen her stomping through the halls while shoving others out of her way, insulting him and most of their other classmates. On rare occasions he had seen her look happy, the smallest of smiles on her face, brow not furrowed in angry; simply looking content. Then there were times when she smirked without anger or malice behind it, eyebrow quirked in amusement, a hint of laughter dancing in her blue eyes. He had seen the down-and-out Helga too, whenever she was faced with a problem that she wasn't sure how to solve, and when she thought she had no one else to turn to. He disliked that side of her most of all, and sadly recalled having seen that look just as many times as he had seen her happy. Then there were those fleeting moments when she looked at him with something akin to fondness -or maybe even gratitude.

Now, however, he was seeing another side to her; Blue eyes filled with tears, arms wrapped around herself protectively, hands quivering, breathing heavy with surpressed sobs. Tmid. Sad. Broken. Hurt.

He searched his memories but could not recall having ever seen her like this before.

Beofre he realized it his arms were around her, Holding her close against him, telling her that it was it okay.

"A-arnold?"

her voice was filled with disbelief, low and hoarse from crying.

She didn't pull away though, or question why he was there. Instead she leaned into his embrce, burrying her head into his shirt, allowing the tears to flow freely from her eyes.

He stroked her hair and continued to whisper soothing words to her, something in his chest aching with each new sob she released. She clinged to him as if he were her life line, and a welcoming sense of resposiblity and need to protect her washed over him.

He had never seen her like this before, and he promised himself -promised her- that he would never have to see this side of her again.

"It's okay, Helga." he told her. "I'm here."

* * *

**--**

Helga honestly didn't know what to think.

It was a day late, but Olga had mailed her 16th Birthday present to her from France. She had expected to find some frilly pink dress, or girly hat, or even a fluffy pillow with some sentimental rubbish embroidered on the front, but this was nothing of the sort.

Thinking that there was some kind of mistake, she began reading Olga's letter.

**Helga,**

**I wasn't sure what to get you -since you have such unique taste- but this seemed appropriate and I hope it gets to you in time. You are growing up so fast, and I am so very proud of you. France is lovely, but I can't wait to see you again. I miss you so much. Happy Sweet Sixteen!**

**Love, Olga**

Helga shook her head, but could not help but smile. Not once in Olga's letter did she call her 'Baby sis' or even refer to herself as 'big sister', and for the first time Helga actually felt a little more grown up.

Still, she held up the piece of cloth-for that was all there was to it- and couldn't help but laugh.

"Seriously Olga." She said to herself, clearly amused. "A thong?"

* * *

**I know that last one was a bit odd, but the others seemed so serious. I needed a mood lightener.**

**Anyway, for those of you who have been reading my story 'love sick'...I fully intend on finishing and I'm just waiting fot the right inspiration. No worries! **

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A couple more one-shots!**

**these two really seem like they should go further, but they don't. (SMILES)**

**I'm evil like that sometimes.**

* * *

Arnold inwardly sighed, feeling the heat of the sun shine through the jungle trees and warm his still soaked body. He had come all the way out here, and for what? Had he really expected to find his parents so easily? To finally be together like a family again?

"Stupid river."

Hearing this voice, and remembering that he was not alone, he looked over at Helga. Just like him she was soaking wet, squeezing some water out of her dress, and then doing the same to her hair-which was no longer being held within two pigtails.

Just moments before they had both nearly drowned, and still they were no closer to finding his parents than before, and if they didn't find their way back soon….Arnold wasn't sure if they could survive on their own much longer.

Had he just been fooling himself; thinking that somehow things would work out?

He had risked both his and Helga's safety.

Maybe it was time to accept the truth…that his parents were gone….that they weren't coming back…and that he wasn't going to find them.

"So, where to next, Arnoldo?"

Helga looked in his direction, but seemed not to notice -or recognize- his defeat.

He sighed, leaning his back against a nearby tree. "Nowhere."

"Excuse me?" She asked, confused.

"I said nowhere, Helga." he replied with a forlorn expression, sliding to the ground. "I..I give up."

He pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Give up?" Helga echoed, her voice filled with disbelief. "But you're Arnold; Mr. optimistic, Mr. you-can-do-whatever-you-set-your-mind-to. You never give up."

"There's a first time for everything." Arnold sighed, resting his chin on the top of his knees.

There was a pause as Helga made her way to stand in front of him.

"Enough with this pity fiesta, football head," She said, frowning. "We still have half the jungle left to search, so stop acting crazy."

"I'm not crazy, Helga." he replied, glaring at nothing. "It was stupid to come here. This whole trip has just been a giant waste of time. "

"No it hasn't. Stop talking like that." Helga said, seeming very put off by Arnold's attitude. "We just have to keep trying."

"We almost drowned, Helga." Arnold replied, looking up at her. "I but both of our lives in danger for nothing."

"Hey, you didn't force me to come here, Arnoldo. I made that choice on my own." Helga confirmed, getting on her knees in front of him so they would be at eye level. "And it wasn't for nothing. We're going to find them."

Arnold stared at her with a mix of disbelief, confusion, and anger.

"How can you say that?" he asked. "The only reason you followed me here was to get a free vacation. So what makes you so sure that we'll find them? That they're even still.. alive?" He choked on the last word, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

"They are alive, and we will find them,…we have too." she confirmed, her voice cracking at the end.

Arnold looked up in confusion, but Helga didn't meet his gaze, seeming conflicted with the thoughts and emotions inside her.

"You...you can't give up."

Arnold blinked. Here he was, ready to let go of all his hopes and dreams and yet...he couldn't imagine that he looked more devastated than Helga did in that moment.

Why was she the one who looked as if her whole world was falling apart around her? Why did it matter so much to her that he find his parent? That he keep trying?

He gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking, his voice somewhat hesitant.

"You..didn't come here for a free vacation, did you?"

* * *

_'You can do this.'_

I tell myself for the umpteenth time, sitting on the edge of my bed and staring down at the phone resting on my lap.

'_Just pick it up and dial the number.'_

I put my hand over the phone, turning it over and resting my thumb on the 'Talk' button.

I stay like this for a bit, then groan in frustration and defeat and fall back onto my bed, staring forlornly up at nothing; the phone resting in my lap again.

_'Why is this so hard?'_

I inwardly sigh.

_'Maybe I should just forget about it.'_

I close my eyes.

_'I mean….what am I supposed to say?'_

I frown while trying to think over my words again.

_'Hey, what's up? Nothing much here, I just thought I'd call and tell you that I'm secretly in love with you.'_

I let out an audible groan. Yeah, that would go well.

_'Is there anyway to do this without sounding completely crazy?"_ I wonder.

I mean, we've been friends for awhile now, we've gotten really close these last few years, we even tag along with Phoebe and Gerald on some of their dates. We're practically a couple already. Okay…not really. That's just wishful thinking on my part, I guess.

_'Just do it.'_ my mind screams at me.

I sigh with frustration.

It was driving me crazy!

I couldn't keep it to myself anymore; I didn't want to.

Why should I?

With a determined look on my face I sit up.

_'This is it.'_ I tell myself.

The phone is in my hand and my fingers are already pressing the numbers that I have long since memorized.

With a deep breath, still feeling brave, I hold the phone up to my ear.

It rings.

……

It rings again.

…..

I glance toward my clock and with slight surprise I realize how late it is.

Another ring.

….

**_'Stupid.'_** I tell myself. _'Why did I wait so late!'_

I start to pull the phone away, ready to give up.

_'maybe it's just not the right time.'_

And yet…

The next ring is cut short….

My heart races.

There a small pause and then a very groggy 'hello' on the other end.

I recognize the voice, even riddled with sleep.

"H-hello?"

I swallow.

_'It's now or never.'_

"H-hey, Helga." I reply, my mouth suddenly dry. "It's me, Arnold. I..I wanted to talk you about something."

--

* * *

**Hopefull I had you believing that the second one-shot was from Helga's perspective (that's what I was trying to do anyway).**

**I hope at least some readers enjoyed this!**

**Please review!**

**And I am still working on 'Love Sick'.**


	3. Chapter 3

Arnold clenched his teeth, his features set in both determination and slight panic, and his mind struggling to understand how he had gotten himself into this current situation-leaning over the side of this rocky cliff, his hands tightly gripping Helga's wrists, desperately trying to keep her from falling to the rocky shores below.

"H-Helga!"

Her blue eyes finally met his green, and the intensity in that one look almost caused Arnolds grip to loosen. She looked frightened, yet hopeful, and desperate and….and so many other things that Arnold felt her stare was actually weakening him-filling him with expectations he felt he could never fulfill.

Despite this he attempted to pull her up again, but just as he had tried before, an even greater force seemed to be struggling against him. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that something was deliberately trying to pull Helga down to the raging waters below.

With a frustrated grunt Arnold succumbed to this force once again, unable to pull Helga up, and only capable of keeping her from falling.

What Arnold found most strange though, was that while Helga eyes were pleading with him not to let go, she did not seem to be trying to pull her own self up-and only occasionally did he feel her hands lightly grip his own wrists, as if afraid to touch him.

Suddenly Arnold heard low murmurs, as if a crowd of people were conversing quietly behind him. A surge of relief ran through him.

"S-someone…please help!"

Nothing changed, still there was the constant humming of voices from behind him. He turned his head the best he could to look back, and was more confused than ever to find so many familiar faces behind him-all of whom seemed completely unaware of his and Helga's presence.

He felt his grip loosening again, and with a slight shake of his head he turned his focus back to Helga, noticing also that the cliff seemed even higher up than before.

"Guys!. Someone…anyone!"

'_Why won't they answer!?' _Arnold mentally screamed. _'Can't they see that Helga's in trouble?!'_

Arnold felt his arms grow tired and sore, his gaze fixated on his ever weakening grip of Helga's wrist.

'_I..I can't do this.' _He thought suddenly, and with a swell of guilt and shame. _'I can't hold on.'_

He felt his hands trembling against Helga's wrists.

"Don't you dare let me fall, football head."

His eyes shot up to meet hers again, her voice lacking it usual hostile tone and sounding far more desperate than demanding. Her eyes were just the same, so full of fear and…and loinging?

"Don't give up on me, Arnold."

He marveled at how fragile she looked then, her blue eyes searching his, her hair struggling to stay up into two pigtails which were being blown back and forth by the fierce wind, her pink bow already half way untied and fluttering in a similar fashion atop her head.

He set his features into a determined frown and was prepared once again to try and pull her up to safety with all of his remaining strength.

Just as he had started to pull, the sound of voices seemed to become louder and more coherent,…though each sentence began running into the next..

'…wasting your time, man…'

'…nothing but a big bully…'

'..most pathetic thing I ever did see…'

The voices grew louder, coming at him from all directions, and it was so distracting that he hardly even noticed his grip on Helga's wrist slipping-his hands now desperately holding onto hers.

'..little friend with the one eyebrow..'

'..just not that oh-so-special someone…'

'…Ruth McDougal….'

'..never would have happened to Olga..'

He felt his grip slipping even more until…

"**ARNOLD!"**

He jerked up in his bed, eyes wide, his breathing quick.

His heart raced, a feeling of dread settled firmly in the pit of his stomach. He attempted to get out of bed, but his legs had gotten tangled within his sheets and he struggled frantically to kick them off; causing him to fall off the side of his bed.

He groaned from his spot on the floor; his legs still half way on the bed, but remained still, taking in calm breaths. The dream was still fresh in his mind; the images, the sounds, the feelings- all so vivid.

It was a dream.

It didn't mean anything.

It was just a dream.

He sighed, staring up at nothing, wonder why his heart still ached with guilt.


	4. Chapter 4

**This has been on my computer for a while now. Truthfully, I don't like it- and wasn't sure where my mind was when I wrote it. Not that I think it's terrible, because it really isn't....I just....don't like it.**

**Why am I posting it then?**

**Because it's been in my documents for so long and I still cant bring myself to delete it- or even change it.**

**So I'm at the 'screw this' point, where I just want to get this out of my way. Post it on here and delete it from my files.**

**Anywho....if that hasn't discouraged you from reading this extremely long one-shot then go right ahead ^_^.**

* * *

I can feel raindrops splatter on my face, and hear the pounding of my heart as my feet push against the pavement with greater force and determination.

"Helga!"

I can see her in front of me -walking briskly- yet somehow managing to distance herself from me, despite the fact that I'm running.

"Helga...wait!"

Finally she slows to a stop, her back still turned to me. I come to a halt a few feet behind her, breathing heavy, and feeling uncertain.

She lets out a small breath and then turns around- no glares, no insults,...nothing. Her face is almost completely devoid of emotion, and her eyes are no longer shining with the same liveliness they once had. For a moment I even consider that she isn't Helga, and that I've been foolishly chasing some stranger down the street (at least that would explain the look I was receiving now, and the reason she hadn't responded to me earlier).

To be completely honest, she doesn't even look like Helga; of course some part of me will always remember her scowling, hair in pigtails, pink bow atop her head. It's still hard to shake that image of her out of my mind.

Now she's wearing a light pink shirt with elbow length sleeves, a v-neck collar, and a red skirt that stops just at her knees- she hasn't worn her pink dress since we were in 5th grade.

Her hair is loose, damp, and sticking to her neck- her bangs clinging to her forehead. A part of me can't help but wonder where her pink bow has gone-since I rarely if ever see her without it.

Her thin arms are crossed, but not in the angry fashion I am so use to; in stead, her hands are gripping her arms as if desperately trying to draw comfort from them.

And her eyes….Helga's eyes have always been so full of life and passion -it's something I've always noticed about her- but now they seem dull and vacant. I don't think I've ever seen that look in her eyes before, or felt quite this way after seeing them.

"Helga,..." I pause, unsure of what to say.

I've always felt a kind of connection toward Helga, but now-as I search her eyes and find no traces of what was once there- I feel like I'm staring into the eyes of a stranger.

This girl can't be Helga; She looks too small....too lonely…too vulnerable.

And yet…

"Helga, what's wrong?"

She turns her head away from me, but I step closer.

"Why'd you leave Rhonda's party?"

She still doesn't answer and I find myself even more worried by her odd behavior. Usually she would yell at me, tell me it's none of my business, or at least attempt to shrug off my concern with some casual remark.

"Did something happen?"

She's silent but I can't give up, I'm more determined than ever to find out what's wrong. What could have happened to put such a look of hopelessness into her eyes? What?

"Did someone say something to you?." I ask, then continue more cautiously. "Did someone ..hurt you?"

I'm surprised to see her wince at my words, although she still doesn't say anything.

Did someone really hurt her?

It just doesn't make sense; Helga may not be the bully she was in fourth grade, but she is still a force to be reckon with.

Who would dare think of harming Helga?

A lump forms in my throat.

Although there's no indication that she's been physically hurt- the idea of an emotionally damaged Helga is just as unsettling. After all, she was close to tears when I saw her leaving the party.

I frown even more.

No matter what Helga may have said or done, there's no excuse for someone to have hurt her this way.

Helga may be tough, but she has feelings just like everyone else.

Did that person even care?

I clench my hands into fists at my side.

"Who?"

Helga's eyes widen slightly, although she doesn't look up, and even I'm surprised by the anger in my voice.

Where did that come from?

I feel my face relax, and I shamefully look down. It isn't right for me to demand answers from Helga when she's already so upset. It's obvious she doesn't want to talk about it, and the only thing that should matter right now is just being here for her.

I step toward her and place my hand on her shoulder.

"Helga, are you okay?"

I'm hoping that she'll speak to me, that I can hear her voice- or better yet, see some kind of spark ignite in her deep blue eyes.

"Helga, please say something."

I'm certain that I sound as desperate as I feel, and she must notice this too because she lets out a shaky breath and looks up at me.

"Arnold.."

Her voice startles me; she isn't whispering, but her voice is quiet and uncertain. Her eyes are no longer devoid of emotion, but the sadness that is now shining in them is unbearable- and the urge to pull her into a hug is almost impossible to resist.

However, before I can even began to act on my impulses, she closes her eyes and then takes a breath.

I think she's preparing herself for what she's going to say, and I'm patient; I always am with Helga.

"Do you…," she pauses, and although her voice has gained back some strength, a look of insecurity passes across her face..

She opens her eyes and stares into mine.

I don't even realize until now that it's stopped raining.

"Do you think I'm.."

She falters, and I gently squeeze her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her.

It must have worked, I think, because she blinks and looks more sure of herself.

"What do you think of me?"

"Huh?"

She lets out a frustrated sigh, sounding a lot more like herself, and I pull my hand away.

"Tell me what you think of me."

I'm confused.

"You mean as a person?"

"No, as a plant." She replies, rolling her eyes. "Criminy, football head, of course I mean as a person!"

Her tone instantly snaps me out of my daze. She hasn't called me football head since last year, at least not in that way; nowadays it seemed more like a playful nickname rather than an insult.

"Sorry," I reply. "I'm just not sure what-"

"Okay, okay," She cuts me off, running her hand through her wet hair, looking frustrated. "Let's try something else." She says, locking her eyes with mine. "What do you think of Lila?"

Just when I think I can't get more confused, she throws something like that at me. What did Lila have to with any of this anyway? Was she trying to give an example? Why Lila?

"Well, She's…pretty." I begin, and although Helga looks annoyed, she nods for me to continue. "And she's funny, and polite, and….well, just a really nice person."

I shrug, not quite sure what else to say. What did she want me to say?

Lila is probably the nicest girl in school, me and her are friends, and she's pleasant company, but..

"Is that it?" Helga asks, incredulously.

_Was_ that it?

"Well, I mean…I guess so."

"You had a crush on the girl for nearly two years and that's all you can say?" She asks me, raising an eyebrow-well one side of it anyway.

I feel uncomfortable for some reason.

"Come on, Helga, that was a long time ago." I reply. "I haven't liked Lila that way since 5th grade."

It's barely been three years since then, but it feels like ages.

"Oh really?" She scoffs. "Cause you two sure looked cozy on Rhonda's couch."

"Huh?"

Okay, now I'm really confused. I remember Lila coming to sit beside me on the couch, and we did talk for a bit, but it was no big deal. Okay, so she did kind of put her hand on my leg….and I did blush, but that was a totally normal reaction.

Why did any of this matter anyway?

"Helga, what does this have to do with anything?" I finally ask.

She lets out a sigh.

"You really don't get it, do you, football head?'

She's right. I don't get it. What's there to get?

"No, I don't. " I reply in the same tone. "Can't you just tell me?"

She hugs herself slightly again, and turns her head away from me.

Why is she making this so hard? I want to help. Why won't she let me?

"Do you know what I think of you?" She asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

I frown at her question, wondering if the insults would soon begin.

"I have a pretty good idea." I reply dolefully.

"Oh?" She turns to me, with a condescending look. "You think so?"

I blink. Does this mean she's not going to insult me?

I frown with doubt..

"Actually, I'm not so sure any more."

She looks at me curiously and I find myself speaking.

"I mean…you use to act like you really hated me, but I don't think you do."

She looks mildly surprised and…uneasy-perhaps even curious?

"What do you think?"

Okay, this was getting weirder by the second.

Does she really care so much about my opinion?

"I guess I just figured I got on your nerves." I reply honestly. "But we can get along pretty well sometimes -especially when you're not yelling at me."

I drift away in my thoughts for a second, recalling several pleasant occasions with her- occasions when she didn't seem to feel the need to pick on me.

Helga can be a really nice person when she wants to be, and sometimes…

"Sometimes you even act like you think of me as a friend." I look at the ground. "And after everything we've been through together, all these years, you're probably one of the closest friends I have."

The truth in my words is both mildly surprising and strangely comforting. Helga has always been there -either picking on me and calling me names, or showing up when I'm at my lowest and offering comforting words of advice(even if those times are rare)- Helga has been one of the few constants in my life. Despite any differences we might have, I somehow know that I can trust her, depend on her. I can't explain how I know, it's just a feeling; part of that strange connection I mentioned earlier, I guess.

I wonder if she feels the same, but something in the back of mind tells me I'm being foolish- that Helga probably really does hate me. Maybe she's only nice to me at times because she feels sorry for me.

Avoiding direct eye contact, I look over at our reflections in the flower shop's window. I can tell she's starring at me, but I can't make out her expression.

She probably doesn't think much about me at all.

I let out a sigh, feeling defeated by my own self doubt.

"You probably just think I'm some goody-two-shoes with my head in the clouds," I reply, with slight resolve. "Just an optimist, trying to solve everyone's problems, giving advice. A nice guy with a football shaped head."

I hear her chuckle, not cruelly, but softly and with amusement. I look up, and If I wasn't so taken back by it, I might have marveled at how lovely she sounded.

"What? What's so funny?"

I'm not mad, or embarrassed, just extremely confused.

"Arnold, Arnold, Arnold," she replies, shaking her head before looking into my eyes. "That's what other people think of you; people that see you, talk to you, but have never really gotten to know you."

I blink.

"Tell me, football head. Is that what you think of yourself?" She asks. "Is that all there is to you? A nice guy?"

"Well…no. "I reply.

She looks at me pointedly.

"Do you really think I don't know you better than that?"

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I don't know what to say. Does she know me better than that? Should she? Do I want her to?

I know I've said this before, but I'm confused.

I wonder if she'll be mad at me for not responding, but she just sighs and looks at the ground near her feet.

It's quiet for several long moments and I consider suggesting that I walk her home. It's getting late and she'll catch a cold if she stays out much longer. However, just as I'm about to ask….

"I think you're amazing."

I almost can't believe those words actually left her lips. Just barely above a whisper, but definitely in her voice.

"Y-you do?"

She nods, rubbing her left arm self-consciously, staring down at her shoes.

"Well…yeah. I mean, everyone comes to you for advice, trusting you with their problems and secrets, and even though I think it frustrates you sometimes, you never say 'no'. You'll do anything for just about anyone-and no favor is too big. You try harder than anyone I know, even if a lot of people take that for granted." She pauses, and then continues with more strength. "You're always solving problems and righting wrongs-you think that you can make things better as long as you just try your best, and you don't let yourself get discouraged just because the world is so..so messed up."

She looks down at the ground and scowls.

"So, yes Arnoldo, I do think you're amazing."

I look at her intently. I'm not even sure if I'm blinking.

Everything she just said about me is true, and a part of my mind is trying to rationalize that these were things that anybody could see, but there not. Does Gerald know that I sometimes get frustrated with having to solve peoples problems? Does any of the boarders realize they take me for granted? It may be obvious that I'm always willing to help others, but does anyone realize how hard I try?

Apparently, Helga does.

I look at her carefully, but she's still staring down at her feet, her hands now clenching nervously at her sides. I can't believe she thinks so highly of me, and I'm surprised even more at how much her opinion of me matters.

She sighs, her shoulders relaxing.

"And you know what else?" She asks, an almost sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You always see the best in others, even bullies like me. I can treat you like dirt and you still forgive- you even think of me as your friend."

I want to stop her, tell that she isn't a bully, that I don't think she treats me like dirt. Most importantly I want her to know how much her friendship means to me, I want to tell how much she means to me. All my previous thoughts about her come back, and I want to tell her that she's an important part of my life, even if I just recently realized it myself.

She takes a deep, almost shuddering breath, and looks up at me. Whatever was missing from her eyes before has returned, and with even greater force. Her eyes are the most brilliant shade of blue I've ever seen, and I can't look away. I don't want to.

"You're more than just a nice guy, Arnold." She says softly, and with such compassion. "Especially to me."

She's looking right at me, her eyes searching mine, and suddenly all the words I wanted to say are gone. Why can't I speak?

My hearts pounding in my chest, my mind racing with thoughts and memories, and every memory is about the girl standing in front of me now.

For a moment I see a three-year-old Helga with a pink bow and pigtails, soaking wet and covered in mud, and in a flash a 14-year-old Helga is standing in her place, also wet, but hair loose and no bow atop her head.

She looks uncertain, expectant, even…regretful; like she's just done something she shouldn't have.

There's so much in that one look that I can't even begin to understand. I've never seen her look so open, and yet so vulnerable.

"Forget it." she replies, almost to herself. "I can't believe how stupid I am. Like you even think about me at all. Way to make a fool of yourself, Helga."

She turns, almost looking ready to run away, and my shock is replaced by fear; I'm afraid to let her leave, afraid that I'm going to loose this moment.

"Wait! Helga, don't go."

I take a few quick steps and grab her wrist. She doesn't turn around.

"Let go, Arnold." She tells me, her tone firm.

I narrow my eyes in determination. I can't let her go, I just can't. I'm so close to understanding, I can feel it.

"No." My voice is just as firm as hers. "I'm sorry, Helga, but I can't do that."

She turns slightly to face me, scowling.

"Why the heck not?"

"Because I," I pause for a moment before continuing. "I don't think I'd ever forgive myself if I let you walk away from me now."

She looks slightly stunned at my words and my expression softens.

"Helga, please just…," I look into her eyes pleadingly. "Please ask me again."

She blinks.

"Arnold, what are you-"

"Please, Helga," I interrupt her. "I think I know how to answer your question now."

Her blue eyes look into my green ones, searchingly. Whatever she's looking for she must have found though, 'cause her expression softens.

"Fine, what do I have to lose." she replies, though she takes a deep breath before continuing. "Okay Arnold, what do you think of me?"

I smile slightly, my hold on her wrist loosening.

I'm not going to think about what to say and I'm not going to just stand here either. This time, I'm going to open my mouth and just let words come out. Completely honest.

"I think you're brilliant."

She blinks at me and I let go of her wrist to rub the back of my neck bashfully. Okay, that wasn't exactly smooth….but I'll try to explain myself.

"I don't just mean that you get good grades either-although I have seen your report card and it is impressive." I reply. "What I mean is well, the way you solve problems- you're inventive and you think outside the box. And the way you speak- everything you say seems so…thought out…and clever. Even your comebacks. Heh."

She smiles slightly, but I don't know if it's because of what I'm saying or because of how nervous I must sound.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you Helga." I tell her, truthfully. "You're talented, resourceful, brave, and funny. Sometimes you really drive me crazy, but it's impossible for me to stay mad at you. Even when I am mad at you, I'm not really."

Even I'm confused by what I'm saying, but continue anyway.

"And just when I think I have you figured out, you surprise me. You're always full of surprises. " I smile some. "Sometimes you act like you're so self assured, yet you won't even take credit for your own talents. You act like it's no big deal when you do really amazing things, but I think that deep down it really means something to you-you're just afraid to let people see that."

I glance up to see Helga about to protest to my claim.

"It's why you don't let people read your poems, right?"

She looks shocked, and I smile some.

"I know they must be great, our teacher is always going on about how talented you are, even if you won't let her read anything you've written."

She looks down almost shyly.

"That's another thing about you too." I realize, lazy smile reaching my lips. "You're shy."

Her eyes met mine again, surprised.

"I-I am not!" she protested, trying to look annoyed.

"Hmm..I almost forgot about how stubborn you are too." I reply, earning a glare from her that made me chuckle slightly.

"I know you're not as mean as you pretend to be, Helga." I tell her in a very sincere tone. "I think I've always known that about you. I think you're just afraid to let people see that side of you because.."

I pause, really giving it some thought.

"Because maybe you're worried they won't like you." I blink and smile up at her. "Which is really kind of silly, considering what an amazing person you are."

All traces of anger leave her face, and I'm proud that I'm getting the rare opportunity to see Helga-the real Helga- so stunned. Beautifully stunned, I can't help but think.

I smile as I step a little closer to her, about to snap her out of her daze, when her stunned expression suddenly switches to one of gratitude.

I stumble back some when she throws her arms around my neck, her head now resting just below my chin as she hugs me.

I hesitate for a moment, stunned. I'm not use to Helga being so…affectionate, especially toward me-even though I know she's capable of it. It feels…strange-not a bad strange- just different. Actually it's kind of nice to have her this close.

Finally I return the embrace, bringing my arms around her form and it just feels right-like this is where I belong. My hearts starting to race again and I'm certain that Helga can hear it, because she tilts her head up to look at me with that wonderfully stunned expression of hers again.

A strange although not unwelcome feeling comes over me, a sudden urge like when I wanted to hug her before but different. When I find my eyes drawn to her soft pink lips, my heart skips a beat as I realize just exactly what this urge was.

"Helga, I-"

Her lips crash against mine , suddenly and fiercely, and as I find my eyes closing and my body leaning into hers, I'm reminded of yet another important thing about Helga.

She's an amazing kisser.

* * *

**Does anyone else see why I don't like this? I feel like its this long, drawn out thing of nothingness. Or maybe I'm just too hard of a critic? The point is...I don't have any closoure for this.**

**Welp, ^_^....At least I finally did something with this, lol.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Something else thats been taking up space on my computer.**

**Not related to the previous one-shot.**

**CAUTION: Suggestive...not for little kids...stuff. **

* * *

Rhonda's party is as busy as always; her huge home filled with hormone crazed teenagers who are drinking, laughing, and making out in random places. It's crazy really, but I'm glad I came.

I'm glad _he_ came.

I smile some as I press my lips against his.

He tastes like oranges, and I inwardly smirk- of course he hasn't been drinking…I didn't think he would.

I imagine he can taste the vodka on my lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. It isn't clouding my judgment; I've had a bit to drink but I'm not _drunk_. I want this.

Thank god Rhonda has so many rooms in this place so we can be alone.

This wasn't my intention though- I had come in here to be by myself, to escape the insanity, to wallow in self-pity. I was upset, but the reason for that was no longer important.

I hadn't expected him to come in, or to look at me with such concern.

It was almost startling.

I remember telling him to leave, that I didn't need him feeling sorry for me- that I didn't need anyone.

He didn't leave though, he saw right through me.

Maybe he always had?

Soon he was beside me, his hand on my shoulder, and in a moment of weakness I threw my arms around him. I was holding him as close as I could, my head buried into the front of his shoulder.

His touch was gentle, and he stroked my long blonde hair to sooth me; It was the first time in a long time that I felt safe and...wanted.

I hadn't even realized that I was sobbing until I finally stopped. I almost couldn't believe that I had shown so much weakness in front of him.

I realized though….that I didn't care anymore.

In fact, I planted several soft kisses on his neck to show my gratitude.

He tensed at first, but soon melted under my touch. It warmed me to think that I had such an effect. My body tingled, my head buzzing slightly, and I started moving my lips up-planting more kisses as I went along.

He pulled back after a moment, just as I had reached his jaw line, and I could see the surprise on his usually calm face.

I smiled coyly and pulled him toward me in a deep kiss.

That's all it took.

We're on the bed now, although I only vaguely recall leading him toward it, and him asking me if I was sure. We're still in our clothes, though it feels too hot in here to be wearing them.

Maybe I have had a bit too much to drink, but that's not important.

His hands come up to nervously cup my face and I close my eyes as I lean into his touch. He smells nice- like soap and scented candles.

With a smirk I let my hands roam up his chest as I kiss him again- not nearlly as careful with him as he is with me.

His kiss becomes more confident now, and as his hands move down toward my waist, I gasp.

"Oh, Arnold."

I feel him tense and his grip momentarily tightens around me.

I smile and go in for another kiss, my hands moving down his chest and then stomach.

Suddenly he pulls his hands off my waist and grabs both my wrists.

I've never thought of him as a very assertive person, but I think I may like it.

I smile suggestively, although my eyes are barely half open, and I lean in to capture his lips again.

He pulls back this time, keeping me at a distance.

He doesn't have to say anything, he's telling me with his eyes that this is a mistake, that we need to stop.

He lets go of my wrists and turns away, moving to get off the bed.

"Don't."

It's the only word I can get to leave my mouth, and I'm usually so good with words.

He stares back at me as he stands, and I know that some part of him wants to stay, but…

"Sorry."

There's so much emotion behind that one word that I find myself momentarily stunned as he turns to walk toward the door.

My hearts beating loudly in my chest and I call out to him.

"Why?"

His hand freezes over the door knob and he looks over his shoulder at me with such regret and longing.

"Sorry…," he pauses and takes several deep breaths, although he hasn't had a problem with his asthma for years. "Sorry that I'm not...Arnold."

my eyes widen and my breath catches in my throat as I recall my early words.

I stare behind his glasses into his soft brown eyes, and suddenly I feel my own blue eyes brim with tears of shame.

I know he's not Arnold, could never be Arnold, but I….

God, I feel like such a fool.

He turns away, being careful to lock the door before he leaves so that no one will disturb me.

Had it been any other guy but him, they probably would have….

This lingering thought makes me feel weak and nauseous.

I let myself fall back onto the bed and turn over, clutching desperately at the bed sheets and burying my face into the nearest pillow.

I can't think straight right now, and I probably won't be thinking straight in the morning either (when Rhonda finds me still here in this room).

The only thing I know for sure is that I owe him an apology….an explanation…and even a thank you.

He may not be Arnold, but he should never have to apologize for being Brainy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Just a little something.**

* * *

He grinned as he made his way onto Gerald's field, several of his friends smiling at his arrival- however late it may have been. Bats and gloves were abandoned to come greet him, but his attention was specifically on her.

The girl frowned belatedly, making her way toward him; glove still in one hand, but the ball abandoned on the pitchers mount where she had been standing.

"Arnold, man, what took you?" Gerald asked.

Arnold blinked, looking over at his friend, turning so that Gerald couldn't see what was behind his back. Several others had already discovered what he was hiding, but didn't say anything out loud; simply waiting for the explanation that was sure to come.

"Well actually I-"

"About time you showed up, football head."

Helga sneered, now standing in front of him, arms crossed.

He smiled, calm and confident.; reminding himself that Helga was quite a good little actress.

Maybe Helga would kill him for what he was about to do, but if she really cared for him the way he believed she did….then it was worth the risk; and if she was the person he thought she was, the person she had shown him she could be, then she wouldn't disappoint him.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, too distracted with what he was about to do.

"You should be, Arnoldo." Helga replied, hands now on her hips. "We've got better things to do than wait around for you all day, geesh."

"I know." he replied, stepping closer to her, ignoring the confused looks he was receiving from the rest of his classmates. "I would have been here sooner, but I had to stop and get something."

She raised one side of her eyebrow up, clearly suspicious of his attitude.

He grinned, despite the sudden nervousness stirring inside him, and revealed the small bouquet of flowers that was behind his back.

Helga gave the bouquet a surprised look, and then gave Arnold a confused one.

"These are for you."

Helga looked stunned, looking back and forth between the flowers and Arnolds smiling face.

"I…,"

She glanced around, nervous of the stares she was now receiving, and the whispering around her.

Arnold swallowed, afraid she wouldn't accept them; at least not as he hoped she would.

He hadn't bought these flowers for his personal tormentor, the fourth grade bully, the one who called him names and tripped him in the hall, no; he had gotten these flowers for Helga, the real Helga- the smart, sensitive girl who had always been there for him when he really needed her.

He knew she really was that person, he had always somehow known, but now he needed her to prove to him that she was willing to be herself- no matter what anyone else thought- for him. How else could this work out if she wasn't willing to do that? And if she really loved him like he believed she did, like she said she did, wouldn't she?

"Don't you like them?" he asked, looking doubtful.

This was it; the moment of truth- would she accept the flowers along with his new found feelings for her, or would she reject them because she was afraid of what everyone else would think of her?

"I.." she swallowed. "What for?"

He blinked, a first a bit stunned by the tone in her voice. Confusion. Desperation. Slight suspicion.

After a moment he smiled slightly, understanding that It was only fair; if she was going to take the risk, then she wanted to know for sure just what she had to gain.

With his free hand he gently grabbed her wrist, guiding it up and bringing it toward the bouquet. He eased the flowers into her hand, theirs eyes never leaving each other, and she held them with no hint of hesitation.

He smiled, eyes falling half shut.

"For making you wait so long." He replied, knowing she'd understand what he meant.

Her blue eyes widened slightly, and color rose to her cheeks. Arnold couldn't help leaning forward to plant a gently kiss upon her lips, ignoring the surprised reactions from their friends, and more than pleased when Helga leaned into his kiss.

* * *

**Yep. lol.**


End file.
